


For Better or Worse

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blanket Permission, Bonding, Empathy, First Time, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Telepathy, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Better or Worse

“Dean, are you–” Sam stops in the doorway, staring at where Dean’s pacing from one side of the room to the other. “Dude. You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor!”

Dean starts guiltily. “I…sorry.” He sits down on the bed, tapping his fingers on his knees. They’ve been at Bobby’s for a few days, waiting for Cas to get back. He’d said he “had some things to take care of.” Dean could only assume he was getting permission. He’d called at ten last night to say he’d be back soon. “Why do we have to wait until tonight?” he bursts out.

Sam sighs. “Cas gave you the choice of sunrise or sunset and you didn’t want sunrise,” he repeats, with exaggerated patience.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, like hell am I getting up that early!” Stupid angelic ceremonies and their fixed times.

“Dude, relax! You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“No!” And he’s not, he’s really not. He wants to do this, which should freak him out more than it does. Just…he wants to do it _now._

But he has to wait til sunset.

The ceremony doesn’t require a “best man,” per se, but it does need witnesses, so Bobby and Sam are filling that role.

He’s getting married. To an angel. Holy fuck.

“Dude, _breathe!_ ” Sam says.

Dean glares at him. “I’m _fine!_ ”

“Which is why you were hyperventilating!” Sam snorts.

“I was _not_ hyperventilating!” Dean snaps back, then sighs. “I want to get this over with.”

Sam glares at him. “If you’d done it this morning it would be finished already. So don’t complain because you were too lazy to drag yourself out of bed before noon!”

“Hey, I didn’t–”

“And I’m amazed you’re even bitching about it. I’d have thought you’d want to hold off something like this as long as possible.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean demands.

“Dean, you’re so scared of commitment you make Britney Spears look faithful!”

“Oh, sorry I haven’t settled down yet, _Sammy!_ Kinda hard to do the married thing when you have to pick up and leave every couple of months.”

“Like you would have otherwise.”

“I might have!”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks at the clock. “It’ll be sunset soon. We can start getting ready.”

“You want to shower first?”

Sam shakes his head. “You’re the one getting married. Go ahead.”

Dean grabs a towel and one of the suits he and Sam keep around for when they’re impersonating government officials and goes across the hall to the bathroom.

He tries to calm down while he’s in the shower. He loves Cas. He wants to do this. It’s just, he’d never had a long-term relationship before he met Cas, and some part of him is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Cas to change his mind or die or something.

The chances of Cas dying in the next two hours are slim, especially since they’re not hunting right now, and he’s _pretty_ sure Cas won’t change his mind, but he’d only said he’d be back soon, not that everything was fine.

It was Sam who insisted that Cas wait until the ceremony to come back, some stupid shit about bad luck. Cas didn’t get it, but he’d agreed, which is the main reason Dean’s freaking out.

He growls and gets out of the shower. He puts on the suit, then combs his hair, staring at himself in the mirror.

When he’s done he goes back across the hall to put on his shoes. “All yours, Sammy.”

Sam grimaces at the nickname. “You better not have used up all the hot water!” he yells from the bathroom doorway.

“Hey, I’m getting married, I’m allowed!”

He can’t see Sam’s bitchface, but he knows he’s making one. “Jerk!”

“Bitch!” Dean shoots back, relaxing a little. He can do this.

***

Sam comes out of the bathroom awhile later, his hair combed back and looking halfway decent for once.

Once Sam has put on his shoes Dean asks, “You ready?”

“Almost. And shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Bite me,” Dean mutters as Sam heads down the stairs.

Dean follows him down the stairs to the kitchen, where he’s rummaging in Bobby’s refrigerator.

“What, you need a beer before you see me get married?”

Sam grins, “No.” He finds what he’s looking for and tosses Dean a plastic box.

Dean pulls out the red rose and stares at it disbelievingly. “Dude, _seriously?_ ”

“Just be glad I didn’t get you a corsage,” Sam says.

Dean scowls, but he puts on the boutonniere anyway.

At about that point Bobby wanders out from wherever he’s been hiding. He’s wearing a suit too, which is kinda freaky. Dean’s used to him in a trucker’s cap and jeans. He can count the number of times he’s seen him wearing anything else on one hand.

“You idjits ready yet?”

“Just waiting on Cas,” Sam says.

At that moment there’s a rushing sound and suddenly Cas is in the kitchen with them. Dean jumps, then blinks, since Cas’ trenchcoat is gone, along with the suit jacket, leaving him in only his shirt. He tries not to stare, but he’s only seen Cas without the trenchcoat and jacket when they’re alone together.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean swallows. “Hey. So…so are we doing this?”

Cas nods. “My Father gives his blessing.”

And that…that’s a big fucking deal. Dean’s read Enoch, and he knows what happened the last time angels and humans started mixing. Not that he and Cas are gonna have any kids, but still… Dean had been half-afraid that all the comments he’d made about angels being dicks and God not giving a crap would piss him off, but apparently stopping the Apocalypse got him a free pass.

“So are we gonna do this or are you gonna stand here jawin’ all day?” Bobby demands and Dean shakes himself.

“What are we even doing? I mean, you haven’t told me anything about this.” That’s another thing that’s got him nervous.

“The ceremony should be performed somewhere both parties are comfortable and the witnesses should be trusted by both of them.”

“So it’ll work here? With Sam and Bobby as witnesses?”

“Yes,” Cas nods.

Dean shoots a glance at Sam, to see that he’s turned bright red. He rolls his eyes. Fucking girl.

“So let’s go already!” Bobby repeats. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

Dean shakes his head and heads out into the yard.

***

The setting sun glints off the windows of the junkers in Bobby’s yard and paints their faces red. Dean turns to Cas. “You’re sure this is alright? I mean, it’s not the most romantic place in the world.”

“It is the closest thing to a home that you have. And I have spent more time here than anywhere else.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but then he realizes it’s true. With the way they move around, the only place they’ve spent more time is the Impala. “OK. So what do we do?”

For answer, Cas starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Uh…” Sam says, and Dean agrees completely. _What the hell?_

“Your shoulder needs to be bare,” Cas says when he’s taken his shirt off.

Dean doesn’t move.

“You gonna chicken out now?” Bobby demands. “He’s the one who knows how this is supposed to go, so do it!”

Dean coughs and strips off the jacket, then fumbles with his tie, uncomfortably aware of the eyes on him.

When his shirt is on the ground too, Cas nods.

“We’re already partially bonded…”

“Say _what?_ ” Dean yelps.

Cas cocks his head at the scar on Dean’s shoulder and he glances at it reflexively, then snaps his gaze back to Cas. “No freakin’ way! You _branded_ me?!”

Cas looks at the ground, and if Dean didn’t know better he would swear Cas was embarrassed. “It was not intentional. Your soul came in contact with my Grace when I pulled you out of Hell.”

“So is that why you’re doing this? You’re stuck?” Dean asks indignantly.

“Looks like this isn’t gonna happen after all,” Sam mutters, and Dean and Cas both glare at him.

“No,” Cas says, turning back to Dean. “I could quite easily have left things as they are. But I don’t wish to. I want you connected to me like I am connected to you.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the sap, but something unclenches in his chest. “OK.”

“I’ve already marked you,” Cas says, reaching out and putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder. It gets warm, and Dean almost flinches away, but it doesn’t burn like he half expected. “Now you need to mark me.”

“Wait, what? You mean like burn you?”

Cas nods.

“I don’t wanna do that! And besides I can’t! I’m not an angel, I don’t have mojo!”

“When I pulled you out of Hell a small shard of my Grace embedded itself in your soul. It isn’t enough to give you any of my abilities, but it should be enough for this.”

“What the fuck, Cas?” Dean’s not sure how many more revelations he can take. First he finds out he was half-bonded to an angel, then that some of Cas’ mojo got stuck inside him? He scrubs a hand over his face. “OK. OK. So what do I do?”

“Put your hand on my shoulder.”

Dean reaches forward uncertainly and puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Sam gags behind him. Dean ignores him.

“It is necessary to complete the bond. The pain will pass. Do it.”

Dean’s not sure what the fuck he’s supposed to be doing, but he locks eyes with Cas and concentrates. His hand starts getting warm. It never gets so hot it’s uncomfortable, but Cas stiffens against him, gritting his teeth. Dean almost pulls away, but Cas’ expression stops him.

After a few moments his hand cools down again and he pulls away, half expecting it to stick. It doesn’t. There’s a raised red mark on Cas’ shoulder, a twin to his own. “So that’s it?” Dean asks as the last of the sun sinks below the horizon.

Cas nods. “Yes. We are bonded now.”

Dean takes stock of himself. “I don’t feel any different.”

“It will take some time for the bond to settle in place.”

“Oh. That’s…good, I guess. Um…” Dean coughs and fumbles in his pants pocket. Sam is going to mock him for this for the rest of his natural life. And, knowing them, probably after that. “I…know this is kinda redundant, what with the bond and all, but…” he trails off.

Cas stares at the plain silver ring Dean is holding, then wordlessly holds out his hand.

Dean fumbles the ring onto his finger, and Cas draws his hand back, looking at it. “Do you have another?”

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, and reaches into his pocket again.

He shivers when Cas puts the ring on his finger.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Bobby says dryly, and Dean jumps. For a minute he’d almost forgotten Sam and Bobby were there.

Cas takes him seriously, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Dean’s. Dean kisses back for a moment, an indefinable emotion swirling through him. Three parts happiness, two parts suspicion (since he can count the number of times something _good_ has happened to him on one hand) and one part sheer terror.

He pulls back and stares at Cas, who smiles at him softly.

Bobby thrusts a paper at him. “Here.”

“Wha–” Dean looks at the paper. It’s a receipt for a Holiday Inn.

“Wedding present,” Bobby says shortly.

“You didn’t have to–”

“Oh yes I did,” Bobby cuts him off. “Your room is right next to mine. I don’t wanna hear what you’re gonna be doing tonight.”

Dean feels his face heat, as Sam nods fervently and adds, “And Bobby’s couch is horrible. I’m already gonna need to marathon _Die Hard_ as an antidote to all that sap.”

“Fuck you, Sammy,” Dean growls, but he’s having trouble repressing a smile.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“So are you gonna use the room or just go at it right here?” Bobby interrupts them to ask, “Because these cars may be junkers, but I still use ‘em for parts.”

“Yeah, we’ll use it. Thanks, Bobby.”

Bobby mutters something under his breath. All Dean catches is “idjit.” He shakes his head, smiling faintly.

***

Dean’s packed in five minutes, since he’s had enough practice. If the authorities are liable to show up at a moment’s notice you learn to throw your shit together in a hurry. While he’s rooting around under his bed looking for a sock Cas comes in. He doesn’t make any noise, so Dean’s not sure how he knows, but when he finds the sock and straightens up Cas is sitting on Sam’s bed.

He stuffs the sock in his bag on top of the rest of his clothes, salt, a lighter and his Beretta (he doesn’t think the hotel will be haunted, but he’s learned to plan for the worst).

He zips up the duffel and slings it over his shoulder. “You ready?”

Cas nods.

“Then let’s go.”

In the Impala, Dean is twitchy. He’s starting to feel things from Cas. Not thoughts, exactly, or even emotions. It’s more an awareness that Cas is there, a knowledge that he _is_ thinking something, even if Dean can’t tell what it is.

“You are uneasy,” Cas says.

“No I’m not!” Dean denies automatically. Cas turns in his seat to stare at him. “Well…OK, maybe I am. I mean, before I met you, my longest relationship was less than a month. And now we’re, what, angel-married? It’s kinda freaky, man.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No!” Dean says quickly. “It’s just I…I dunno if I’m going crazy, but I knew you were in the room before I saw you. And I can feel you now, in my head.”

“You’re not crazy. The bond is taking hold.”

“How deep’s it gonna go? I mean, what will it be like when it’s done?”

“I am not certain, since you are human. When two angels bond they can sense each other’s thoughts and emotions without effort and communicate their own. A member of a bonded pair would also always know where the other one is.”

Well, that last part will come in handy at least, with the sigils on his ribs hiding him from angels. It would have been even more useful when Lucifer was still around, but at least this way Cas won’t have to call them to find out where they are.

“So you can read my thoughts?” He’s not sure how he feels about that.

“Angels can read anyone’s thoughts, if they concentrate. But yes, now I’ll have to concentrate not to.”

“And I’ll be able to read yours?” He still doesn’t get Cas a lot of the time, how he thinks, why he does what he does, and that would help.

“There’s no way of knowing until the bond settles completely.”

Dean nods and pulls into the motel parking lot.

***

Bobby got them the honeymoon suite. Dean’s going to kill him.

The clerk had given him a sly look as she handed over their room key, and Dean had wanted to sink into the floor.

And when he walks in the door he contemplates walking right back out again. There’s far too much red and pink and lace for his taste. But then he looks at Cas and decides, hell with it. He can deal with the décor. Not like he hasn’t stayed in worse places.

Cas looks the same as always, but Dean can sense his uncertainty. They haven’t actually had sex yet. Cas hadn’t wanted to, and Dean can’t really blame him, even though they’re not going to be having any half-angel babies unless Cas is hiding something. He’d just saved the world–he’d rather not have it washed away because God got pissed.

So Dean’s been abstinent for seven months. He must really love the guy.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Cas nods. “I know. I want to.”

Dean decides to try out the “communication” thing. He has no clue what he’s doing, but he tries to send _It’s alright_ in Cas’ general direction.

It must work, because Cas relaxes slightly and Dean gets a warm, fuzzy feeling he would never feel on his own.

Dean squints at Cas. There’s some sort of haze hovering behind him, never resolving into anything.

“Dude, what is that?”

Cas looks over his shoulder. “What is what?”

“There’s this…cloud behind you.”

Cas’ brow furrows, then clears. “My wings.”

“What? I shouldn’t be able to see them without my eyes boiling out, should I? Besides, they don’t look like wings.”

“You would be able to see them without harm if I manifested them. What you’re seeing now is…spillover.”

“Spillover? Like a dam?”

“Like…” Cas pauses a moment, his brow furrowing again. “Like when light from one room leaks out under the door into the next. Manifesting my wings on this plane takes energy, but there is leakage that you can see now, since we’re bonded.”

Dean processes that for a moment, then nods. “So you said I could see them if you brought them out?”

“Yes. Would you like to?”

“Only if you want to show me.” But that’s a lie. He’s been fascinated with the idea of Cas’ wings ever since he saw their shadows almost two years ago.

“I do.”

Cas unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall, the fabric passing right through the cloud at his back. Dean’s eyes are drawn to the mark on his shoulder, standing out livid against his pale skin

Cas closes his eyes and concentrates, and Dean can feel the crackle of power. There’s a smell of ozone and the hair stands up on his arms, then the cloud resolves into…wings.

Dean stares. Cas’ wings are almost pure black, but they throw off iridescent highlights of blue, green and violet whenever he moves. They’re not feathers, not exactly, more like the idea of feathers, shaped out of whatever energy Cas’ wings are made up of.

“Do you like them?”

And _that’s_ the most unnecessary question Dean’s ever been asked. Cas can feel the ridiculous awe he’s radiating as well as he can. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Dean steps nearer and puts his hands on Cas’ shoulders, hesitantly. He’d always known Cas was an angel, but it’s never been quite so obvious before.

Cas leans forward and kisses him, and Dean kisses back. His hands move down from Cas’ shoulders to his back and Cas makes a strangled noise.

Dean pulls away from Cas’ mouth to find his hands are resting partly in, partly through Cas’ wings. There’s a current running through them, like a battery. He pulls back hurriedly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Cas gasps, his breath puffing against Dean’s face.

And all at once Dean gets it. He’s not sure why. Probably because of the bond, since Cas doesn’t look like he’s turned on, but there’s a low thrumming of arousal in Dean’s blood that isn’t entirely his.

Dean runs his fingers through the feathers and Cas’ lips part on a gasp. Dean feels another jolt of secondhand arousal go through him.

Dean kisses him again, and Cas’ mouth opens underneath him, letting him in. Dean clutches at his wings and Cas moans against his lips.

“Clothes,” Dean gasps, pulling away, and Cas nods, pushing off Dean’s suit jacket and moving to unbutton his shirt. He hadn’t bothered putting the tie back on, and he’s grateful, since it’s one less thing Cas will have to take off.

He fumbles with Cas’ belt, swearing under his breath, but finally pulls it through the loops and throws it on the floor. Cas’ breath hitches as Dean opens his slacks, shoving them down past his thighs and pushing him to sit on the bed.

Cas toes off his shoes and pulls his pants off, actually leaning down to take off his socks before reaching for him again.

Cas pulls him down onto the bed, and for a guy who never undresses he sure makes quick work of removing the rest of Dean’s clothes.

Dean takes a moment to look at Cas. His wings are still out and Dean wonders about that, but most of his brain is too busy with arousal to care. Dean kisses him again, licking into his mouth and burying his hands in the feathers over the small of his back.

Cas makes a small noise in the back of his throat as Dean traces around and through the feathers, the current buzzing through Cas’ wings and the arousal echoing through the bond making him grind forward.

“How far do you want to take this?” he gasps in Cas’ ear.

“As far as possible.”

“No, I mean…” Dean fights through the arousal enough to think. “I mean what do you wanna do?”

“I want to be connected to you.”

OK, so…that means fucking. And considering Cas has never done this before…

Dean gets up off the bed and goes to his bag. “Dean…” Cas protests.

“Just a sec.” He pulls out the condom and the tube of lube and goes back to the bed. He probably doesn’t need the condom, but no sense taking chances.

“You want to fuck, right?” he asks Cas, when he sits back on the bed. “We’ll need these.”

He unwraps the condom and rolls it onto Cas’ dick.

“What–”

“It’ll be easier this way. I have more experience than you, and I’ve done this before.” Granted, it’s been awhile since he’s bottomed, since he hates giving up control, but if he can’t trust Cas, who can he trust?

Cas looks at him, with that penetrating stare that always made Dean think he was reading something on the inside of his eyeballs, then nods and takes the lube.

Dean hisses when he feels Cas’ finger brush against him, and has to steel himself to keep from flinching back.

Cas draws back immediately. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, yeah I…just gimme a sec.”

Cas leans down to kiss him, and Dean puts his hand on his back by reflex. Cas gasps and Dean feels another jolt of arousal sweep through the bond.

He pulls away from Cas and nods, taking a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

This time when Cas brushes against him Dean doesn’t flinch. Cas’ finger presses inside him and Dean closes his eyes at the sensation.

Dean was expecting to have to tell Cas what to do, but it seems like he’s got a pretty good idea on his own. Dean doesn’t know if he knew about this beforehand or if he’s getting the info directly from his mind. Both options are fairly disturbing.

“I’m using your experience,” Cas whispers in his ear, and Dean nods. Quicker and easier than telling him what to do, but…

“I don’t like it when you’re in my head.” Although he’ll have to get used to it now, with the bond. He wouldn’t feel as nervous about it if he could read Cas’ thoughts too, but all he’s gotten so far is emotions and sensations.

Cas pulls away from him and Dean stares. “What the fuck, Cas?”

_I’m trying something._

Dean lets out a strangled shout, because that was Cas’ voice, _in his head._ Only it didn’t sound like Cas, exactly. There was some quality to it he couldn’t place.

“You heard that?”

“Yeah,” Dean manages, trying to get his heartrate under control.

“So you can read my thoughts if I send them to you.”

“I suppose that’s something,” Dean mutters, then his cock throbs again and he says, “Not the best time to talk.”

Cas smiles slightly and moves back on top of him.

He uses two fingers this time, moving unerringly to find Dean’s prostate. Dean moans and arches up, his hands falling to Cas’ back. Cas’ breath hitches and he grinds down against Dean’s thigh.

Cas spends an unholy amount of time opening him up, crooking his fingers over Dean’s prostate on practically every stroke. He keeps doing it long after Dean knows he’s ready, and he would think Cas is just paranoid about hurting him, but when he looks up he sees that Cas is smirking.

“Any time,” Dean growls, and Cas huffs out a nearly soundless laugh.

But he pulls his fingers out, lines up and pushes in.

Despite all the preparation Dean still winces at the stretch, but he pushes back anyway.

The look on Cas’ face is priceless, like he’s just found something he never expected and is struggling to hold himself together.

He’s rigid, not moving, so Dean sweeps his hands up Cas’ back to his shoulders, running through his wings, and Cas makes a broken sound, pulls out and shoves back in.

While Cas is thrusting into him Dean occupies himself with his wings, burying his hands in them, tracing around the feathers, pulling ever-so-slightly.

Cas’ mouth is open, gasping, and his eyes are closed. He changes his angle slightly and hits Dean’s prostate. Dean’s fingers clutch spastically at his wings.

 _Dean. Yes. DeanDeanDeanDean_ …oh.

And Cas is jerking against him, light flaring out bright enough to turn Dean’s eyelids red when he snaps them closed.

Dean feels himself coming against Cas’ stomach as the light dies away. As Cas slumps on top of him he realizes that he can sense his thoughts now. They’re nothing very coherent, but they’re there, a mutter at the back of his head. He takes a moment to feel smug.

He runs a hand over Cas’ back, idly noting that his wings are gone. Cas makes a noise that Dean can only describe as a _purr,_ for fuck’s sake.

“Dude. You’re heavy.”

Cas blinks at him for a moment, then rolls off him, looking down at the condom in bafflement. Dean rolls his eyes and takes it off him, tying it off and throwing it away.

He gets a cloth from the bathroom and cleans himself up, then comes back out and lies down.

“So…?”

“So?” Castiel repeats.

Dean rolls his eyes again. “ _So_ what did you think of your first time?”

“I’m…not sure.”

Dean’s jaw flaps for a minute. “What do you mean you’re _not sure_?”

Cas leans over and kisses him softly. “It was overwhelming. I’ve never been subjected to that kind of sensory overload.”

“Oh,” Dean says. “Guess that makes sense. But would you wanna do it again?”

“Definitely,” Cas says, and Dean laughs, leaning over to kiss him.

“Good enough for me.”


End file.
